Thursday, February 5, 2015

'Ivan's Captive Submissive (Submissive's Wish #1)' by Ann Mayburn


About Ivan's Captain Submissive:

Heat Level: Erotic w/ heavy BDSM elements
Contemporary BDSM Romance
M/F, F/F/F, M/F/F kinkery

When Gia Lopez signs up for the Submissive's Wish Charity Auction she has no idea that she's about to be bought by a Russian Dom who will do anything to make her fantasies come true. Including staging an elaborate kidnapping that Gia believes is real. Ivan is instantly drawn to Gia and he wants to be the best Master she's ever had. As he spends time with Gia he begins to have intense feelings for the strong, independent, and sexy American woman. He's only won a week of her service but wishes to keep her forever.

Unaware of Ivan’s true feelings, Gia fights her growing emotional attachment to him. All she wants is to settle down with a nice Dom in the United States, continue her career, and live a normal life. However, Ivan sets a plan into motion that will push Gia to all of her limits and take her on a global journey of self-discovery, extreme pleasure, and love.

Warning: Contains Erotic Spanking, Subspace, f/f situations, a devastatingly sexy Dom who knows what he wants, and a submissive who just might be ready to give him what he needs.


Read the first chapter:

Chapter One

Gia Lopez stood in a staging area for the submissive auction with a line of women covered in sheer black robes. Her long, light brown hair was twisted back into an intricate braid that was a work of art, but she desperately wished she’d gotten plastic surgery to take care of her big nose before agreeing to this.  The other women scheduled to be sold off with her were beautiful, each perfect and lovely in their own way.
She felt like a sparrow surrounded by peacocks.

While Gia possessed enough self-worth to admit she was cute with her dimples and big brown eyes, she’d never be breathtaking like the auburn haired sex-bomb submissive next to her. Gia had a slender figure from her daily jogging, but with her small breasts she felt like a boy when compared with the curvy submissive.

Why couldn’t Gia have gone after someone who wasn’t a pinup girl?

Mistress Alice, a tall, blonde Domme, walked down the line of submissives. They were gathered in what looked like parlor with all the furniture moved out. Elegant watercolors still graced the walls and a tasteful chandelier bathed the room in a low, golden light. The door to the room where the auction would take place was currently closed, but from her orientation earlier, Gia knew that on the other side there was a curtained area to hide them from the audience. Then, the scariest of all, a stage where she would be sold to the highest bidder.

Mistress Alice paused now and again to point out something she wanted changed with a submissive’s hair or makeup and took a moment to speak with each woman. Up at the front of the line, a few men in brown leather loincloths presented a nice visual treat as they were oiled up by a trio of giggling submissives.

Mistress Alice stopped before Gia and slowly inspected her from head to toe. When she spotted the gold barbells piercing Gia’s nipples through the sheer cloth of the gown, she smiled. “Lovely touch against your nicely tanned skin. The gold works much better than silver.”

“Thank you, Mistress Alice.”  Gia curtsied as she’d been trained and Mistress Alice’s gaze warmed.

The Domme tilted her head and studied Gia’s face. “You’re Mistress Viola and Master Mark’s girl from South Carolina, Gia.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Mistress Viola and Master Mark were my trainers.”

“Lovely couple. I met them once at a Domme convention in Las Vegas. They told me to keep an eye on you, that you have quite a temper and are very high spirited.”

Gia flushed and dropped her gaze. “I’m working on that, Mistress Alice.”

“Well don’t work on it too hard.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Some of us like a subs with fire in their veins. We like the challenge and the constant battle for your submission.”

Gia started as the other woman gently bit her earlobe before leaning back. “Am I understood?”

A soft rush of desire went through Gia and she licked her lower lip. “Yes, Mistress.”

The desire unfurled gently in her belly as she relived her training and how she owed her trainers a debt she could never repay. It had been a unique experience to work with Mistress Viola and Master Mark. Together they’d helped her start her transformation into the kind of submissive she yearned to be. They’d also given her glorious orgasms that swept the world away and left her existing as a being of pure pleasure. Not only did they train her physically, they helped her learn how to love herself just the way she was.

Mistress Viola was a plump, curvy, delicious armful of woman. By today’s standards she was considered overweight, but back in the 1950’s she would have been the ultimate in female beauty. Gia had yet to see a man who didn’t gravitate to Mistress Viola in a room, no matter how many other women were there. The fact that her husband, the more traditionally handsome Master Mark, loved her beyond reason helped more than anything else to make Gia believe that maybe there was a man out there that could love her just as she was and give her the confidence to become the woman she wanted to be.

Beautiful, elegant, and loved.

Well, she wasn’t loved yet, but she would be. She had faith her Master was out there, looking for her. The thought of him being here tonight, maybe waiting for her in the audience, sent an ache of longing through her. The practical part of her mind scoffed at the idea of soul mates and fate, but the romantic side of her nature insisted anything was possible.

A petite mahogany-skinned woman who reminded Gia of a pixie came up to Mistress Alice and knelt at her feet. “Mistress, Master Martin wishes me to inform you we have fifteen minutes until we begin.”

Mistress Alice nodded. “Thank you, Tilly.” She smiled at Gia, “Have fun, sweet girl. Whoever gets you is going to have their hands full.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Gia bent into a graceful curtsey.

The pair went farther down the line and Gia tried to slow her breathing. The redhead in front of Gia turned around and gave her a warm and dazzling smile. “First time?”

“Yes. Is it painfully obvious?”

“Yep. First timers are pretty easy to spot. You’re the only ones who aren’t excited. My name is Iris.”

“Gia. Nice to meet you.” Gia smiled and smoothed her hands against the sheer robe. “I take it by your lack of panic attacks you’ve done this before?”

“Oh, yes. This is my third time.” Iris gave a dreamy smile. “After the first auction, I was bought by a lovely Dominant couple. At the second auction, I met my husband, who is also my Master.”

Gia tilted her head in confusion. As far as she knew, this auction was for single, uncollared submissives. “If you have a Master, why are you doing this again?”

The woman laughed and fingered her collar. “Because he wants to win me all over again.”

Gia couldn’t help a small stab of envy. “That's very romantic.”

A chime sounded three times, silencing all conversation. All of the submissives turned towards the sound, and the redhead leaned over to whisper into Gia’s ear, “Don’t freak out. Whoever you end up with is going to be one of the best Masters in the world. If you click, great.  If you don’t, then you will, at the very least, come away from the experience as a better submissive. Besides, all of the Masters have your fantasies available to them, and only a Master or Mistress interested in fulfilling your fantasies will bid on you.”

Gia laced her fingers together, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. She didn’t want to start shaking like a scared puppy. “That’s what worries me.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Iris. “I shared a bottle of wine, or two, with my girlfriend before I filled my form out, and I’m afraid the fantasies I submitted are a little more…frank. Let’s just say I was super honest about what my deepest, darkest desires are. Like, embarrassingly honest. When I read what I had already submitted the next morning, I couldn’t look myself in the mirror for the rest of the day without feeling like a pervert.”

Iris giggled. “Oh, that does sound interesting. Care to share what one of those fantasies were?”

A stern man’s voice range out over the crowd. “Ladies, eyes on me.”

They turned and Gia recognized Master Martin, the man who ran the Submissive’s Wish Charity Auction and owner of this elegant mansion.  Tonight, the distinguished man wore a dashing black tux with an expertly tied red and black bowtie that nicely set off his greying hair. His presence filled the room and all conversation stopped.

Raising his arms, he smiled. “Welcome to the twenty eighth annual Submissive’s Wish Charity Auction. Some of your faces are well known to me as members, and others are delightful new additions to our evening. Whether new or old, I encourage all of you to make the most of the opportunities presented to you tonight. Allow yourselves to embrace your submission and give yourselves the freedom to enjoy the fantasies your Masters or Mistresses create for you without useless shame or misplaced guilt. For the next week, you will be at your Masters’ or Mistresses’ beck and call. You will find yourself challenged, pushed beyond what you thought you could endure but, in the end, it will all be worth it.”

A nervous giggle came from a few of the submissives and Master Martin smiled, then his expression turned serious again. “Let me take this opportunity to emphasize once again that your happiness is the most important part of this auction.  If you are purchased by someone that you do not wish to have sexual relations with you are by no means obligated to do so. The only thing the Master or Mistress that win’s you gets is your company. It is up to them to try to seduce you and make you fall under their wicked spell.”

Barely stifling a wistful sigh, Gia wondered if she was really ready for this. Yes, she’d submitted to Mistress Viola and Master Mark while training, but she’d never managed to achieve subspace. After listening enviously to the way the other submissives talked about it, she really wanted to experience it but, truthfully, didn’t know if she could. She’d tried with a couple of local Doms that she was friendly with back home in Myrtle Beach. While the sex had been great, she’d never even gotten close to achieving that floaty, orgasmic feeling the other submissives described. It made her feel like a failure as a submissive that she couldn’t get into the right headspace for her Dominants.

Hell, if whoever won her here couldn’t top her, maybe she should consider becoming a Domme.

Master Martin’s deep voice interrupted her dark thoughts. “You will soon be blindfolded and ear buds will be put into your ears so you cannot hear. We want you to focus on yourself, on your goals, on what you hope to gain from this experience. Not on what is happening around you.”
Gia shifted nervously and the air around her became charged and crackled with tense energy.

“Don’t worry about how you’ll walk or move around while blindfolded. You will each be escorted onto stage by an experienced submissive.” He looked up and down the line. “Any questions? No? Such a quiet and trusting group of submissives we have here tonight.”

Everyone chuckled, then a curvaceous dark skinned Dominatrix towards the back of the line raised her hand. “Master Martin?”

Master Martin smiled. “Our lovely Mistress Vivienne. What is your question?”

Mistress Vivienne smiled. “This girl,” she pointed to the petite woman with a riot cute dark curls in front of her, “is worried she may end up with some serial killer.”

The submissive flushed beet red and seemed to sink in on herself. Gia felt sorry for her, but she’d been wondering about that as well. Of course, this auction had been running for twenty-eight years without incident, and everyone had been highly screened, but all it took was one bad apple to end her life. Great. Now she was nervous and scared. It seemed like her brain would never turn all the way off and let her relax.

She liked being in control of her life, leaving nothing to chance or fate, but being constantly on her guard was mentally and emotionally draining. She hated not having control over what was happening to her, which was probably why she had such a hard time submitting. It took trust in the unknown to let someone truly inside your mind and heart during a scene and to totally let go. So far, no one had managed to breech the walls around her soul. That was fine, she was in no hurry to get serious…though it would be nice to have someone to cuddle with at night and wake up to in the morning. Someone to share holidays with and someone who would not only satisfy her physically, but also intellectually. She thought about being in some faceless man’s arms as they watched the sunrise over the Atlantic ocean together and let out a sigh.

Master Martin cleared his throat and her attention returned to him. “As we have a larger than usual number of visiting submissives for this auction, I will reiterate what our members already know. There is not a single Master or Mistress out in the audience tonight I wouldn’t trust my own submissive with….though I doubt any of them could actually handle Mrs. Martin.” He waited for the polite laughter to die down before continuing. “Every single one of our bidders has gone through extensive background checks and have been members in high standing of their local clubs for a minimum of five years. While nothing in life is ever guaranteed, I take the safety of every man and woman here very seriously. Does that answer your question, darling girl?”

The blushing woman dipped into an elegant curtsey and said in a lightly accented voice, “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Master Martin.”

“You are most welcome. Anymore questions?”

“Sir?” A willowy woman with short blonde hair held her hand up.

“Yes.”

“Will I have access to my luggage at all times? I’m a diabetic and will need to be able to get to my medication.”

“Of course. The suitcase we asked you to bring has all of your important identification, including your passports, and medication inside along with a change of clothes. We’ve also included two thousand dollars, cash. If you feel uncomfortable and you’d like to leave you can do so without having to rely on anyone to help you.” An uneasy murmur went through the submissives and he gave them a bemused smile. “We haven’t had a single submissive leave before their time was up, but we like to make sure that you feel as comfortable as possible.”

“Any other last minute questions?”

Silence blanketed the room and Gia laced her fingers together again. Her background check had taken six months. By the time it was done, they knew everything about her—from who her best friend had been in elementary school to her preferences in food. She hoped the Dominants had to go through background checks as thorough. This whole experience was so outside her comfort zone that it was quickly turning into something surreal, like a confusing dream where the scenes changed too quickly to really get a grasp on what was happening.

If it wasn’t for the fact the money raised from her auction would go directly to her charity of choice, she’d be tempted to pretend to be sick and run as far and as fast as she could. Then she’d probably spend the rest of her life kicking herself in the ass for missing the opportunity to serve a true Master, however temporarily. No, she wasn’t going to chicken out. She wasn’t quitter and she certainly wasn’t going to let her fear rule her now. Though the thought of hiding in a bathroom with a fifth of tequila to gain some liquid courage seemed like a great idea.

She was such a basket case.

When no one spoke up, Mr. Martin gestured toward the back of the room. “Let me introduce you to the men and women who will help you navigate the stage.”

Laughter rang from the doorway at the back of the room, and a steady stream of elegantly dressed men and women came to stand before them. A lovely Latina wearing a golden cat mask that matched her elaborate gown stopped before Gia with a friendly smile. Taking a closer look at the gown, Gia was pretty sure she’d seen it on the cover of this month’s edition of Vogue. A diamond collar with a small gold owner’s medallion glittered around her slender neck.

“Good evening. My name is Harper and I’ll be taking care of you, Gia.”

Giving the other woman a tentative smile, Gia almost held out her hand in the traditional ‘nice to meet you’ handshake but remembered where she was and who she was with. While shaking hands might be the proper thing to do in the outside world, the BDSM community had its own rules on what was proper. In this case, she didn’t know if Harper was allowed to touch another submissive without her Master’s permission. Gathering herself, she smiled back.

“Thank you. If I throw up on you or pass out, I apologize in advance.” Gia flushed in embarrassment at how uncouth she sounded compared to this elegant and sophisticated woman.

Harper giggled and pulled a black blindfold out of her elbow length white silk gloves. “I’ll make sure to aim you in the other direction at all times. Now take a deep breath before you pass out.” Gia did as she was told and took another, which seemed to help clear her head.

The tall female submissive attending the redhead next to Gia smiled at Harper. “Did you hear? The European delegation is in the audience tonight. Yummy.”

Gia blinked. “The Europeans?”

Lifting the blindfold, Harper smiled. “Bend down a bit so I can tie this.”

The cool cloth slipped loosely over her eyes and the other woman said, “The Europeans are here as part of a…well kind of like a cultural exchange program. They send their top Dommes and Masters over here for training and we send our best Dommes and Masters over there for the same thing. I’ve heard they’re strict, but amazing.”

“And they are soooo hot,” Iris said with a purr. “I love my Master more than anything in the world, but if I was single I’d be begging any one of them to take me like the willing slut that I am.”

All three women laughed, then hushed when Master Martin looked their way a raised brow.

Harper adjusted the blindfold until Gia couldn’t see anything and said in a softer voice, “Okay, the ear buds are going back in. I can tell you from experience, once they’re on, you won’t be able to hear anything. I’m going to hold your hand the whole time so, if you start to get a little anxious, just give me a squeeze. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am, I mean Harper.”

The beautiful woman’s laughter was the last thing Gia heard before Harper placed some ear buds in her hand and Gia put them in her ears. A gentle, classical piece of music played from the tiny speakers, but the soothing melody did nothing to calm her nerves. Feeling suddenly very alone and vulnerable, a wave of distress tightened her muscles and she reached out.  Almost instantly, Harper’s hand grasped hers, the smooth satin of Harper’s glove giving Gia something to focus on. No wonder men liked the feeling of a woman wearing gloves. It somehow accentuated how much smaller a woman was, how finely formed.

Harper squeezed her hand twice and began to lead Gia forward then stopped again. With the ear buds in place, Gia couldn’t have a conversation with the other woman and was left with her own thoughts. Once again, they moved forward, and then stopped. By Gia’s estimate, each time they paused they waited a good five to ten minutes. She should be using this time to think, to compose herself so she presented the best image possible. After all, she only had one chance to make a positive first impression on some of the best Dominants in the world. Unfortunately, her mind refused to stay on one topic for more than a few seconds.

Her thoughts were chaotic, jumping from concern about her appearance to wondering if she needed a breath mint. A fine tremor went through her hands and she worried that she’d be shaking like a frightened animal on the stage. Mixed in with that was the reoccurring fear that she’d sweat through her deodorant before they made it through the door and that she had some toilet paper stuck to her sheer robe. Opening herself to the potential, very public rejection of nobody bidding on her was so far out of her comfort zone that she didn’t know how to cope with her rising panic. This was like stage fright times a million.

Someone removed one of the ear buds and Harper whispered, “We’re going up on the stage now to wait. You look beautiful, and I have no doubt there will be a bidding war for you.” She put the ear bud back in and Gia was left alone with her spazztic thoughts and the mellow strains of a violin concerto.

Harper gave Gia’s hand a tight squeeze and led her slowly up a ramp. The carpet beneath her feet changed to a smooth, cool surface and she realized she was now on the stage. At least her big feet looked cute. As part of her welcome package to the auction she had a full spa treatment consisting of dozens of feminine indulgences she’d never experienced before, including a pedicure that left her with pretty rose pink toenails, and baby soft feet. Spending that kind of money on pampering herself wasn’t in her Ramen noodle budget so she’d enjoyed the experience immensely. Every hair-free inch of her body below the neck had been polished until it gleamed like bronze.

She almost licked her lips, then remembered the Domme who had expertly done her makeup had threatened to flog her if she messed up her glossy pale red lipstick. Gia was to be perfect, and that meant controlling herself for the pleasure of the crowd as she stood on stage at the auction. Right now though, she was about to pass out from fear despite Harper’s sure grip. They stood still, and the occasional brush of air from someone passing would tingle over Gia’s overly sensitive skin. With her sight and hearing taken away she became hyper aware of any stimulation around her.

The idea of doing the charity submissive auction had seemed like a dream come true at first. Gia had a low paying job as an architect with long hours and asshole clients. In this economy, she was lucky to have gained legitimate employment with health benefits anywhere after she graduated. True, her work only paid her enough to give her a roof over her head and other basic necessities, but she knew if she busted her ass, she could and would rise through the corporate ranks. Unfortunately, all that work resulted in a miserable lack of a social life and an even more abysmal love life. Yes, she played at her local club, but it was more physical than emotional. She always left feeling that there had to be more to BDSM than what she’d experienced.

When the Submissive’s Wish Charity Auction came up, she’d jumped at the chance. If a Dominant bought her, the money would go to the charity of Gia’s choice, and she would get ten percent of whatever was bid. Gia planned on using the extra money she made to put a down payment on a house. She was tired of living in an apartment complex where people fought or partied at all hours of the night. The thought of being able to sleep without being awakened by the sound of techno or Fanny's screaming because she caught Joe cheating again was heaven.

She already knew where she wanted to buy some land with access to the ocean so she could build her dream home someday. The money from the auction could make that happen years ahead of schedule. First, she had to appeal to someone enough to be bid on. When she’d first applied for the Submissive’s Wish Charity Auction they told her some of the submissives offered never got bid on, and she shouldn’t take it personally if it happened to her. She couldn’t imagine how humiliating that would be and prayed someone would find her lean frame, bubble butt and exotic looks appealing enough to make up for her lack of experience.

Gia stood with her back straight, her shoulders gracefully curved, and one leg slightly in front of the other, turning her body to a subtle angle. Mistress Viola had pointed out how it showed off Gia’s long legs and big, round ass. At the time, Gia wasn't sure if she was offended or flattered, but now she tried to accept her bubble butt as part of the way God made her.

Taking in a deep breath, she slowly let it out and tried to focus on the positive. She’d beaten incredible odds to make it this far, so there had to be something inside her the Auction Committee found appealing. Hell, she hoped she was attracted to whoever won her. She liked big, strong men and the sight of a pair of broad shoulders and narrow waist always made her heart beat harder. With her luck, she’d be bid on and won for ten bucks by a skinny guy with dandruff.

A soft, satin glove-covered hand touched Gia’s chin and brought her back to the present with a rush of nerves. Gia let out a soft moan. It must be her turn. The ear buds were removed, and a moment later, the blindfold was taken from her eyes.

Harper stood in front of her with a warm smile curving her full lips. She looked like a golden goddess while Gia felt like a walking plague victim.
God, please let at least one person bid on her.

Just one.

Leaning forward, Harper whispered, “Breathe.”

Gia sucked in a deep lungful of air and immediately felt better, less faint. Harper gave her a moment, then gracefully helped Gia walk to the center of the stage. They were in what had to be a ballroom, lit so she couldn’t see anything about the crowd. It was just she and Harper standing in a pool of warm light while an anonymous group of people inspected her from the shadows.

Harper held Gia’s hand out and cleared her throat. Flushing, Gia remembered to curtsey to the audience. A soft chuckle flowed through the crowd, and she blushed so hot even her ears burned. Obviously, they hadn’t missed her chagrined look. 

A male voice filled the auditorium.

“Masters and Mistresses, may I present Gia. Joining us from South Carolina, she holds a master’s degree in architecture and is relatively new to the lifestyle. Her charity of choice is a no-kill animal shelter in Myrtle Beach where she has volunteered for the past three years. While she has been trained by the esteemed Mistress Viola and Master Mark on the basics of submission, she has much to learn. I’ve heard she’s a very eager student. We’ve also been warned she has a temper, so it will take a strong Master or Mistress to win her submission.”

The crowd laughed, and the murmurs through the audience grew louder. Gia flushed hot enough to melt the sun. She’d imagined she’d get up here, the guy would point out that she had nice legs in spite of her chunky butt and she liked to give blowjobs.

Oh shit, were they going to talk about the sexual fantasies she’d written down for them? She thought they were going to be in the program next to a picture of her or something, not actually talked about while she stood here. Anxiety tightened her muscles and she worried people in the audience could see her hands trembling.

God, they were going to think she was a weirdo, a pervert, a freak, all those things she secretly felt about herself. No, she wouldn’t give into those negative thoughts. Mistress Viola had spent a great deal of time talking with Gia about her sexual needs. The one thing Mistress emphasized above all else was that Gia should be honest with her partner and herself about what her needs were, and not be ashamed of her natural desires. The mature woman part of her mind agreed, while the prim and proper portion insisted she was a sexual deviant and needed therapy.

Sure enough, the next words that rolled out of the auctioneer’s mouth made her wince. “Gia is fond of forced seduction and abduction scenarios. She also enjoys relationships where the man is powerful, someone to be feared and respected, but gentle with her…to a point. She craves dominance and has yet to achieve subspace. Well, I’m sure we can help her learn how to fly.”

More audience laughter, along with a few catcalls. “Her trainers, Mistress Viola and Master Mark from the South Carolina club, The Iron Fist, have said she can be a bit of a brat and will need a firm hand. At her core, Gia is eager to please and wants to be found worthy of your attentions.”

Harper gave her fingers the barest squeeze and whispered, “Breathe.”

Gia sucked in an audible breath, and the audience chuckled. She imagined how they were talking about her, commenting on her bony knees, her giraffe neck, her tiny breasts. Here, under the bright lights, all of her insecurities threatened to rise to the surface and overwhelm her. A man to the left commented on her pierced nipples while a woman somewhere ahead of her made a nasty remark about Gia’s small tits.

This was the single most embarrassing, humiliating, terrible experience of her life. Tears threatened to fill her eyes and she blinked rapidly. No, she was not going to cry, at least, not right now. When no one bid on her, she could let her tears flow.

“This lovely submissive has agreed to one week serving the winning bidder. Masters and Mistresses, let us start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars.”

Gia swallowed hard as the first bid came in. She had no idea how the auctioneer could see who was in the audience, but the bids kept climbing. When the staggering figure of close to four hundred thousand dollars was reached she openly gaped.

Two men were bidding. One was an American from one of the New England states by his cultured tone. The other had a rough, almost bestial voice with a sharp, growling tenor to it and an accent she couldn’t place. Her few remaining brain cells that weren’t freaking out, tried to focus on the spot the voices were coming from. She could barely see the outline of what might be people sitting in chairs.

The man with the rough, accented voice roared out, “Four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Even the auctioneer seemed stunned. It took him a moment to respond before he coughed and said, “I have four hundred and twenty-five thousand US dollars. Going once...going twice…sold!”

Gia stood there in total shock. Four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars! That was a life-changing amount of money for the rescue shelter. She spent one weekend a month volunteering, so she knew exactly how far they could stretch it—definitely a new building, maybe even enough to purchase the plot of land behind them and turn it into a dog run. They could even add a full-time vet on staff with that kind of money.

With a gentle tug, Harper brought Gia’s thoughts back to the present in a rush. Harper smiled at her and led her to the edge of the stage. Her time with the winning bidder began right now. For the amount he paid for her, Gia wanted to show him the time of his life, to somehow be worth all the money he’d spent. Hell, she didn’t care if he was eighty years old with liver spots on his balls, she would do her best to rock his world in thanks for his amazingly generous bid.

The spotlights turned away and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyesight. They took a few steps and were almost at the main floor when Harper paused.  A moment passed, then a man said something in what she thought was Russian or some type of Slavic language. She looked to Harper, who gave her a slight shake of her head. Great. Harper didn’t understand what was going on either.

A second man approached and she could see him a bit better. His suit was tan and stood out in the dim lighting of the audience.

“Your new Master extends his greeting. He is pleased to have won your service. You will wait for him in one of the sitting rooms while he finishes his business here.”

Gia took a deep breath. Okay, she was really doing this. Soon she was going to make her first impression with a Master, not just any Master, herMaster. She needed to do this right, but she really wished she could see what he looked like.

She held her hand out and the man in the tan suit moved forward. He helped her down from the stage and released her once she reached the bottom. He motioned to her, and she followed him out of the auditorium past men and women whose attention had returned to the stage where the next submissive was being brought out. They went down an elegantly appointed hallway done in red tones until he stopped before a door with the number seven on it. He opened the door and held it for her.

“Please wait inside. He will be with you soon.”

She wanted to ask who 'he' was, but silence seemed to be the best option at this point.

The man in the tan suit left quickly, and she turned to look at the room around her. To her surprise it wasn’t some kinky sex room, but rather a small reading area. A fire crackled in the black marble hearth, and deep burgundy velvet chairs were arranged artfully before it. Books lined the walls, but she didn’t think she could focus enough to read.

There was a gilt-framed mirror above the fireplace, so she took a moment to check her reflection. A few wisps of her wavy light brown hair had escaped her waist length braid and she quickly smoothed them back into place. Her makeup was intact, and she did a quick check of her breath. Good to go there as well.

Not knowing what else to do, she knelt in the center of the room and waited for her Master as she’d been taught.

She’d scarcely settled and arranged her robe about her in what she hoped was a pleasing manner when the door handle turned again. It opened revealing a massive, thoroughly intimidating man with dark hair that was cut so close on the sides it was almost shaved. A scar went down his cheek and bisected his lips before trailing down to his strong chin. He wore an impeccably tailored, black wool suit that highlighted his fit figure. On his wrist gleamed a gold watch that probably cost more than her apartment building.

She’d been expecting some elegant, sophisticated man who reeked money and class. The man standing before her was plain scary. Despite his obviously high-end apparel he somehow exuded danger. In a way, he reminded her of the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a good five inches taller than she with a body like a prizefighter. No pretty gym muscles here; this man had a barrel chest and massive thighs, not to mention huge arms.

Gia looked back to his face and forced herself to meet his brilliant blue eyes. To her surprise he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen, Caribbean blue with hints of green here and there. They seemed out of place in his rough and imposing features. He had a solid jaw, good cheekbones, and a nose that was a little bit bigger than normal and looked like it had been broken more than once.

The man reached down and took her hand. As he pulled her to her feet, she had the impression of great strength. The hand holding hers was large with scars across the knuckles. Whoever this man was, he’d been a fighter at one time. The scent of his cologne reached her and she took in a greedy lungful of the air around him. He smelled delicious, like leather and spice.

“My name is Ivan. I am your new Master’s bodyguard, and I will be taking you to him.”

His voice was a deep rumble, like rocks grinding against each other. She was surprised to find herself disappointed he wasn’t the man who had bought her. Attraction arced between them and she looked away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the man who was not her new Master.
Unable to help herself, she took another deep breath of his cologne and her overactive imagination began to conjure all kinds of kinky things. Glancing down at his big hands she tried to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by someone as large as him, or what it would feel like to have all of that weight on her, pushing her into the mattress while he fucked her. Power and strength radiated from him in a way she’d never experienced with any Dom before, similar to the way Master Martin’s presence filled the room but somehow…sharper.

Her nipples drew to hard points and she quickly looked away from him. She’d always had a thing for men’s hands and his were inspiring an almost dizzying amount of lust. He moved his hands so they framed his crotch, and she realized with a start he thought she was staring at his dick. As she looked back up to his face she found him smirking down at her.

Damn, totally busted like some kind of hoochie for checking out a guy who wasn’t her Master.

She was such a lousy submissive.

Something in Ivan’s gaze sharpened, and she looked away, unable to hide from his scrutiny. He removed his jacket and held it out to her, revealing a crisp white shirt that stretched out over his impossibly broad shoulders. “Your Master wishes you to wear this so you don’t get cold. Though your American fall is like the summer in Russia, that little scrap of nothing won’t protect you from the chill.”

Unsure if he wanted her to respond, she simply nodded and let him help her into the jacket. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile that made her heart lurch. With a gentle touch, he draped the heavy coat around her. It hung to almost her knees and held the scent of his cologne and natural musk. She pulled it tight and gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

“What is your safeword?”

She blinked at him and tugged his jacket closer. “Damascus.”

“Damascus? Like the city?”

“Yes, Sir.” Both men looked at her, obviously expecting more of an answer so she babbled out, “My mother was part Syrian. We would visit there in the summer every other year when I was little.”

The man nodded and took a step back, obviously putting some distance between them. She worried he thought she flirted with him. All she needed was her new Master thinking she was the kind of submissive who would screw anyone that smiled at her.

Ivan gave her another searching look before he turned. She followed, trying to at least walk gracefully. Mistress Viola had once said a submissive should be like a living work of art, graceful and flowing, a pleasure to the eye and touch, a joy to behold.

While she would probably never be anyone’s joy to behold, at least she wouldn’t embarrass her new Master. With the big strides Ivan was taking she wasn’t as smooth as usual. Instead she clutched his jacket around herself and hurried after him. They passed a few other couples on their way through the mansion, including a Master who was rather vigorously fucking his new female submissive on the bottom steps of a set of stairs.

Lucky girl.

All too soon, they reached the front door. Ivan stopped and looked down at her bare feet. Standing this close to him made her feel small, feminine, and vulnerable. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gave a somewhat undignified squeak and instinctively laced her arms around his neck. The sensation of his rock solid muscle surrounding her was arousing, and made her feel safe even as she scolded her body for responding to the wrong man. She looked up at him as he carried her outside and studied his profile. He had the look of some old time warlord, the kind of man who conquered the world in his spare time.

No, she needed to keep her focus on her new Master, whoever he was. Making herself look away, she studied the drive in front of the mansion and the cars parked there. Ivan headed to the left and tucked her closer to his body as a stiff wind filled with the spicy scent of fall leaves tickled her nose. He radiated warmth and she removed her hands from around his neck before tucking them against his chest.

They reached a black limo and a tall, lean man in a silver suit stood beside it. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. When he spotted her, he didn’t say anything, merely nodded at Ivan and opened the door before getting into the limo.

She pushed at Ivan’s chest. “Please let me go, I need to properly greet my Master.”

Ivan looked down at the pavement then back at her feet. “No.”

Befuddled, she found herself in the limo before she knew it with her new Master sitting at the front near the partition between the passenger section and the driver. She quickly took a seat at the long bench along the side of the limo, unsure if she should sit next to her new Master or wait for him to motion her over. He certainly didn’t appear eager for her to join him. When she smiled and tried to catch his eyes, he looked away. Ivan climbed in after her and took the back seat between the two doors. As they pulled away from the mansion, she wished the week was already over.

Copyright Ann Mayburn 2011-2012. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduce, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.


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With over forty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young Ann has had a love affair with books would read everything she could get her hands on. As Ann grew older, and her hormones kicked in, she discovered bodice ripping Fabio-esque romance novels. They were great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as muchd etail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann loves to talk with her fans, as long as they realize she's weird, and that sarcasm doesn't translate well via text. You can find her at:

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